Dark and Light
by feliciajar
Summary: A young girl named Isadora finds that she's bitten off more than she can chew when she starts working for SHIELD and meets a man claiming to be a detainee's brother.
1. Too Late

Loki took her limp hand, pleading with his eyes, but his heart was breaking every time she looked away. He was too afraid to say anything, for fear of his voice breaking down completely.

"Look at me, my love- please," he said without thinking. Rather than him breaking down, she gave out a huge, heart-wrenching sob. Her breaths were shaky and he realized that she had been avoiding eye contact because, when he did steal a glance at her wonderful hazel eyes, they were puffy and bloodshot from crying. She kept shaking her head, and her shoulders were trembling, causing her strands of dark brown hair hanging from her loose bun to quiver.

She wiped her face with her jacket sleeve before she collected herself to speak. "Loki," she began. His heart twanged with pain, hearing all that anguish and sadness in his name made him want to embrace her and protect her from it all forever. But it was too late.

"It's too late," she echoed his thoughts. "I c-can't be with you. It has to be this way."

"Why not?" Loki half-whispered. "Isadora, at least tell me why you cannot. Is it because—because of," he hesitated, about to voice his worst possible fear.

But she already knew what he was going to say. She nodded, and took a deep breath, allowing herself to prepare for a longer speech. "I can't apologize, Loki. I waited for you. I waited for so long I—I couldn't even live my own life anymore. I was in this awful rut, I just couldn't go on, and then Ian—"

So he had a name, he thought as he dropped her hand and unconsciously rubbed his eyes. A raging flood of anger swelled up in Loki, who had the sudden urge to strangle this stupid boy named Ian. But he stopped seething for a fleeting moment to keep on listening.

"Ian saved me, Loki. If it weren't for him, I don't know if I would still be here today." Isadora looked at Loki, drenched from walking through the rain to get to her apartment. The warm glow of the light was glinting off the gold trimming of his armor, wet and shining. His black hair was longer and its usual slicked back style had been ruffled by the wind outside, giving him a more rugged look than usual. He looked positively beautiful. But the pain etched on Loki's face made her hurt, but she tried to be brave as she kept on saying her piece. _Don't slip up, you rehearsed this so you wouldn't fuck up_, she thought angrily to herself.

She broke her gaze and stared intently at the fireplace. "Ian needs me, and—and I need him. He was always there for me." That last sentence sent a searing pain through Loki, like a backhanded slap to the face.

"But, Isadora, you must understand," he pleaded, trying to grab her shoulders so that she would look at him, but Isadora got up and walked toward the kitchen. He got up and followed her. "It was because I was trapped in that wormhole, I didn't know that I would be gone for that long—"

"Don't give me that bullshit," she spat over her shoulder. "You and I both know you had it planned all along, to trick Thor into throwing you over the Bifrost so that you could wreak vengeance on Asgard and Earth. You were two steps ahead of everyone else, and the more time you gave me to figure it out, the more it made sense. I mean nothing to you, I'm just a pawn in your stupid game." Loki tried to protest, but she shook her head silently, shutting him up quickly.

"You're too late, my love," she said sadly.

_Hope you guys enjoy! This was kind of a one-shot but I'm thinking that if I get enough comments/reviews on this then I may expand this whole idea I have in my head with Loki and Isadora. So, let me know if you like it! :)_


	2. First Day

It was in the middle of May, but it had rained at around four in the morning. The Supreme Headquarters of International Espionage Law-Enforcement Division had stationed in Albuquerque only about a week ago.

"Wait, the Supreme Headquarters of _what_?"

Isadora threw back her head and laughed. Her hair was beginning to fall out of her bun after the long day at work. "SHIELD for short," she explained, pushing her hair back casually. "They're hiring people for assistance with data collection and radio dispatching, so I applied. I need some extra cash anyway," she said, shrugging off the boring job titles.

"How much are they paying you?" Cat asked, her eyes narrowing. "I mean, it wouldn't be worth sitting around, waiting for someone to tune into a walkie-talkie just for minimum wage, would it?" She looked at Isadora almost judgingly, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow peeking out from her dirty blond hair.

"I mean, the pay's definitely decent. Come on, Cat, you should try applying too, it would be great on a resume," Isadora suggested hopefully.

"Pfft, please, you may have a ladyboner for that sort of stuff, but I prefer the more... luxurious positions in the world of employment," she quipped. Isadora inwardly rolled her eyes. Cat was simply too high-and-mighty to even consider these sort of jobs. She had her job as a hotel receptionist. _Big whoop_, Isadora thought. _At least I'll be hunting aliens, not giving people plastic keys or wearing a starchy uniform all day._

Isadora simply was never as stylish or as looks-conscious as her friends, especially Cat, she thought to herself, laying next to her on her sprawling queen bed. She loved her to bits and pieces, but sometimes she wondered why Cat bothered with such trivial stuff just for her looks, like mascara. But then again, she thought, Cat had always hated her for her long eyelashes that curved upward effortlessly. She also had naturally full lips and never needed lipstick. Her light freckles sprinkled over her smooth olive skin even added personality, Isadora thought to herself every so often. At times she would look in the mirror and think of herself as having exceptional looks, but then at school the most handsome boys would just—ignore her. She could never figure out if it was because she was naturally a shy person or because she simply never tried to look like the other girls. She always wore what she thought looked nice, from tomboyish Doc Marten combat boots to more—_sexy—_things like a low-cut, flowing aquamarine tunic.

But she never really chose to dwell much on it. In fact, most of her free time was spent reading old books from her Grandpa Erik's library, and photographing the "Land of Fantasy" that was the barren New Mexico desert.

"Why haven't you considered, like, giving voice lessons to kids, or something voice-related like that?" Cat questioned, raising her favorite eyebrow again and rolling over to sit up. She clutched a bright yellow pillow and slid it over to her lap as she patted the pillow, motioning towards Isadora. "I know you'd looove to hypnotize little kids with your ridiculous voice."

This time Isadora really did roll her eyes, sliding up on Cat's lap. "No, I've told you, I don't do teaching. And by teaching I mean working with demonic little children."

"What! How can you say that! They're so adorable. I substitute taught that preschool class once, and oh my gosh, I just wanted to take home this one girl with the _cutest_ little set of pigtails. But I guess that's just my biological clock ticking earlier than yours."

"Haha, yeah, I guess. I don't know, I've never really seen myself with kids, you know?"

Cat snorted. "Yeah, I see you raising Jane Eyre, Emma, and Moby Dick."

"Shut up, you'd name your kids Chanel, Gucci, and Versace in a heartbeat." Isadora countered back, her lips curving upward into a smirk. Cat shrugged knowingly.

"I was going to name my first Tiffany, but yeah, you're pretty much nailed it on the head."

They laughed together, often as they did when they realized how alike yet different they were. But then Isadora snapped out of her giggling fit and then scrambled to look at her alarm clock. "What time is—oh _shit_, I'm gonna be late!" she exclaimed, leaping off of her emerald green bedspread. She tugged on her navy blue turtleneck and black Doc Martens, stumbling towards the door.

"Oh come on, it's only 8:30, don't be stupid. I'll drive you, okay?"

Isadora looked up, with about ten bobby pins hanging from her teeth. Cat couldn't help but snort in laughter. "Thanks, Kitty, I owe you."

"Yeah yeah, Izzy. I love you too," Cat said over her shoulder as she grabbed her keys and snow-white pea coat hanging from Isadora's bedroom door.

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"So, what's your name again?" The man in the eye patch asked. They stood within the main atrium of the makeshift building. The ground was damp, and the sky pitch-black save for the twinkling star here and there. The occasional suited SHIELD agent would circumvent the atrium via the adjoining hallways. Isadora didn't see a single woman, she noted rather nervously.

Even with one eye, Isadora thought, the man facing her had one of the most overbearing, intimidating stares she had ever felt upon her. It also didn't help how he was, quite literally, an entire foot taller than she.

"Isadora, sir," she said, praying that her voice wasn't trembling as much as she thought it was. "Isadora Kelley."

"Well, Kelley," Nick Fury addressed Isadora as he would for the next year, "let's start your training.

"Rule number one: Never disobey an order. Many make the mistake of questioning our orders, and they never last for very long. Got it?"

Isadora gulped.

"Yes, sir."

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_Damn, I could've kept going... and going... but this is only my second chapter. Haha. I guess I've caught the fanfic bug. Let me know what you guys think, I want all the feedback I can get! _


	3. An Asset

_Ahhhhh! This semester has been punching me in the face. I'm still alive, though. My weak little fingers are taking a break by typing out things I actually like to do, not stupid academic essays and research papers. _

_But anyway. Here we go!_

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"Listen, Kelley, we wanted you on board for a reason."

"For my wildly good looks, right?" she sneered daringly at Fury. His eyes—well, the one she could see, anyway—actually widened in surprise. She had more spunk than he thought.

"Due your relation to Dr. Selvig," he countered back, trying to play off her sarcasm. "And the fact that you're one of the brightest kids in the godforsaken piece of dry rock you people call land."

"It's the Land of Enchantment for a reason, sir," she said back to him with a feisty smirk on her lips.

Fury couldn't believe it. It was like a smaller, paler, tweenier version of Selvig. Without the same last name of course. "Now, Dr. Selvig is your maternal grandfather, correct?"

"Yeah, I was graced with a much more American last name."

"Well, Selvig spoke very highly of you, as well as your physics professors at UNM, but be aware that we aren't handing you this job. This is technically an internship, but we're still paying you because once you sign your contract and you agree to our conditions... that alone is worth something."

"But my-" she stopped herself from saying _grandpa_— "Dr. Selvig told me that it would just be more data collection and clerical work?"

"Well, that's what we'll start off with. But we can only hire you if you agree to our conditions we're about to propose to you. Much like the CIA, people want to work for SHIELD until they really find out what they're getting themselves into. You won't just be a lowly intern with a desk job, you'll have to be able to serve as intelligence, going undercover, gathering raw data..."

"So what you're saying is, I'll become more of an asset?"

"Exactly. We want you as an asset to our little organization. It's not some assembly-line factory where one person knows how to make one part. We need our employees to be well-rounded. And I believe that you can be. The more you're willing to do, the more skills you'll acquire over your time here with us... the better."

"Wait. Skills? You're talking like I'm going to be the next Karate Kid or something."

Fury actually laughed this time at her sarcasm. "Sort of. You are one the youngest in our New Mexico division, but it's going to be more of a conditioning session. Besides, Selvig told me you dabbled in martial arts?"

"Four years of Jiu Jitsu." She inwardly beamed. If she had to use her kicks and throws for some cool covert operation, she thought, that would be the coolest thing ever. Might as well be a stunt double in a spy movie.

"We're not going to make you the next Natascha Romanov, but our combat specialists just teach all of our entry-level employees the basics. You never know when stuff like that will come in handy. It's all in the contract."

_Who the hell is Natascha Romanov?_ Isadora thought to herself. _Wait, no. Focus,_ she reminded herself. This sounded more and more interesting the more Fury told her about this so-called job.

"Well, where's this contract that you keep mentioning?"

And with that cue, Fury drew a few sheets of paper from inside his long black coat. Isadora opened them up, all with the SHIELD crest emblazoned in black ink at the top of the page. She impatiently scanned the official-looking document. She saw words like _combat_ _training for 4 weeks_... _commit to SHIELD for twelve months_... _agent-in-training_... _commit_ _allegiance to SHIELD, its commanders, and all the persons above your position_...

Isadora raised her eyebrow, looking skeptical. Fury picked this up right away.

"Now, we don't put this in the contract, but you seem like a pretty smart girl. We're a lot like the military. There are going to be a lot of things you can't tell people, let alone explain. Not your best friend, not your parents, nobody. By committing to our program for a year we'll do everything we can to help you fit in—rather, _blend_ in. Become one of us. The smartest and best people we have.

"So what do you think, Kelly- you in?" Fury asked, raising an eyebrow.

Isadora just gave him a big smile and stuck out her hand in preparation for the seal of agreement. "When can I start?"

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_Hope you guys enjoyed! In the meantime, review review review! And I promise, there will be more Loki very soon. I know you Loki-lovers are out there, so patience, young grasshoppers. =)_


	4. A Voice in the Night

_Here we are! Chapter 4! A big thank-you to those who have given me feedback, I give you big internets and hugs! Haha, well, here's the next chapter. Hope y'all enjoy._

_Also, a little trivia tip – Isadora was singing 'Ave Maria'. A definite favorite of mine, have a listen if you'd like while you read! Just go to YouTube and type in the song's name, trust me, it's beautiful. :)_

_Now, onto the story!_

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He was dressed like one of them. Even though he still stood out like a sore thumb—one of the leanest, tallest men within 100 square miles—his gait and posture made him look as powerful as he really was. Nobody so much as questioned him or asked for a badge. Loki just kept his white, pointed chin up in the air and strided, circling stealthily around the atrium.

It was nearing three in the morning. The middle of their night shift. Last time he was here, even more surreptitiously disguised, the station was abuzz, far more men on guard then there were now, working at computers, toting paperwork. Now, there were only about ten or twenty total onsite. Even as the occasional worker threw his head upward or threw a glance in Loki's direction, a simple disguising spell caused them to blink, erase Loki from their mind, and keep on walking. It was dead silent, save for a few generators humming, allowing the huge floodlights to illuminate the site. Outside the bright lights, everything was pitch-black—the desert, the night sky, even the air was dark and silent. No wind, no rain—just a clear sky with glimmering, cold stars.

It was Loki's second time coming to the site, this time with a different plan and a different disguise to try and extricate Odin's hammer. He didn't want to have to use sorcery for something as primitive as a hammer, but looks were deceiving. Mjolnir was bonded with the most intricate magic and spells within its very handle. Their father always told Loki and Thor that Mjolnir could move mountains. But the way the people of Asgard spoke of the hammer, if enough power could be harnessed within the wielder and Mjolnir, it could destroy a whole people, a whole race—or an entire realm.

It was like a piece of bait being dangled right in front of Loki's nose. Thor was tied up somewhere in this little mini-city of makeshift hallways and offices, silenced, and nowhere to be found within sight. There was no one to stop Loki. Yes, he may have already tried once, but this time he brought with him the most complicated spells he knew. If Loki walked out with Mjolnir in hand tonight, he thought to himself smugly, it would make things a lot easier. He's already king now, a little extra power wouldn't hurt, would it? Besides, the Jotuns needed to be put in their place.

But Loki wasn't looking for an easy way. "No," he whispered ever so softly under his breath, his thin lips curving upward into a sneer.

He was simply looking for power.

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Isadora looked at her discreet black watch. The digital reading blinked 03:09 a.m. at her, almost in a taunting way. Like it was teasing her for being the new meat. For being forced to take the graveyard shift, helping keep watch on the security cameras and enter data for analysis on the "satellite" that they were keeping an eye on. Isadora sighed with gusto, feeling frustrated, tired, and bored all at once. She leaned back in her cramped office chair, trying to stretch her body as far out as possible in the tiny little swivel stool. She twirled around casually in the small chair, anyway, she figured it was break time by now, since her hands were beginning to cramp up again. Isadora slightly loosened her bun tucked under her navy cap and finally stood up, feeling like she had broken free from a set of old rusty chains.

Rather than heading to the makeshift cafeteria complete with industrial refrigerator and 2 vending machines, she reached into her black rucksack for a thermos and her gleaming silver mp3 player. There was literally no one in the station except for a few janitors trying to clean up the muddy mess after last night's storm. The only employees that would be onsite would be the ones standing watch, either towering above the site or guarding the outskirts of the site, reaching just past where the fluorescent lights spilled onto the ground.

"Time for a voice break," she said to herself happily after glancing around the office, making sure the only ones present were her, the humming computers, and whirring tracking devices. She started running scales softly underneath her breath, starting to get her voice going as she plugged her headphones in. Singing certainly wasn't effortless for her, in fact, it took her at least fifteen minutes to get warmed up. That was all thanks to her voice teacher back in town—Ms. Taylor taught her every warm-up, every breathing exercise, everything possible to make sure Isadora's voice would be in optimal condition when she opened up her mouth to sing—to _really_ sing.

Isadora went to her playlist, simply labeled 'Voice.' She hit a button, and a piano began playing the prologue to one of her favorite classical songs. She always told Cat that when she died, she wanted this to be played at her funeral so that even in heaven she could sing it for everyone to hear. She toiled over the song for the past few months, not just trying to hit the high notes, but to learn to hit them effortlessly and do justice to the genius who wrote this song.

She opened up her mouth and let go. Sure, it was three in the morning, she had dark bags under her now glowing hazel eyes, but she let go. Isadora painted a picture with every note and every word. She felt everything let go, from her temporary frustration at SHIELD for over-scrutinizing a stupid artifact, to her aching soreness from sitting in a chair for hours for the sake of data entry. Everything washed away as Isadora closed her eyes—and just set herself free.

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Loki's ears perked up. At first he didn't know what it was. A machine whining? No, it couldn't be a machine, it was in perfect tune...

It was beautiful.

Loki just stood there for a moment, in both confusion and wonderment, his pale brow furrowing as he looked down toward the ground floor—the atrium level. He lightly snapped his fingers and sent himself down. He had to know where that sound was coming from.

As he followed the sound, it became more and more clear. Crisper. It was definitely a melody, a woman's voice. An Asgardian music box, perhaps? Was it a signal, a code for some alarm? Or were the stupid soldiers just bored and trying to lull themselves to sleep?

He walked down the corridor and realized the music was coming from a room adjacent to the hallway he happened to be walking through. Light and shadows indicated this, along with a very clear silhouette of a lone figure, looking quite small among the large equipment that was surrounding him.

Loki rolled his eyes a little. _I should have known. A silly little oaf trying to pass the time_. He turned on his heel to leave, swishing his Asgardian style clothing through the chilly air. But then he heard the door open. Confidently, knowing the man wouldn't notice him from his simple little spell, he turned his head over his shoulder to see what the man looked like, out of bored curiosity.

But it was the exact opposite of what Loki expected, causing him to turn around completely. Instead, the melody became three times as loud upon the door opening, and when he turned around, the figure was making the sound, with its eyes closed underneath their cap and mouth shaped into a perfect 'O'. It was the most beautiful thing Loki had ever heard from the mouth of a living being.

He then realized, quite sheepishly—it was a _girl_. Nothing but a small girl, who looked barely twenty years old. Her hair was tucked up into her cap, and unflattering clothing that had been designed for the male worker did not flatter her at all. But she had rosy cheeks; long eyelashes peeking out underneath the cap, and the fairest skin he had seen since—well, since he had dined with his last female courtier in Asgard. She was lovely for a young girl. But Loki's brief inspection of her was caught short when she took a breath and unconsciously opened her eyes inbetween an interlude.

Her eyes widened in horror, clearly embarrassed that someone had heard her. She threw a dainty hand to her mouth, and froze. Loki suddenly realized—_she can see me_.

_How is that possible?_

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_Whew! Goodness gracious! Hate to leave you on a cliffhanger, but isn't that half the fun as the writer? Hehe._ Just a bit of fun, really.

_Be sure to leave some feedback, or at the very least, subscribe/add it to your favorites if you like it! Thanks again, fellow Loki lovers!_


	5. Aftermath

_GOODNESS GRACIOUS. This chapter was really hard to write for some reason. Here it is! Not gonna keep you waiting :)_

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Loki moved toward her, making sure her eyes followed him, confirming that she really was seeing him. But then she yelped and ran off towards the atrium, grabbing a black, little, rectangular cube hanging from her hip, saying some sort of code... Code red?

He wasted no time. With a swish of his cloak, he disappeared, dissolving into the crisp Asgardian air.

Her voice, singing those pure and beautiful notes, echoed in his head as he returned to his realm. In between, he could still hear echoes of the girl shouting into her walkie, and men traipsing up to the atrium to see what was the matter.

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_The next day –_

Isadora stood in front of Nick Fury's desk, looking positively infuriated. "For the last time, it was a man, dressed in civilian clothes, about six foot four, long black hair, Caucasian, green or hazel eyes. I don't know how he got in. I jut left to go to the break room even though I had my eyes on the security cameras the entire time—"

"Up until then," Fury finished for her, not breaking his gaze, which was fixed directly on to Isadora's raging eyes. "Okay, so you're telling the truth. But do you fail to remember your training, Kelley?"

"No, sir," she said impatiently. Isadora looked like a bomb about to go off any second, fidgeting where she stood in front of his desk. "I understand that SHIELD has dealt with odd circumstances such as this one, I've read the reports, I've done my research. But you have to understand—"

"Kelley, there's no room for excuses. This happened on your watch and you're going to have to deal with the consequences." He held up a hand the instant Isadora opened up her mouth to protest. "I know, I know, it's not fair, 'I can't be alert every second of the day'," he said. "But what were you supposed to do?"

It was a quiz. Isadora swallowed her rage momentarily to spit out, "Alert an agent to take my post while I'm away, even if it's for only five minutes."

"Thank you. That's all I needed to hear," Fury allowed rather sympathetically. "Now, it was your first night shift and it's unusual for something like this to happen at all so early in our research for the satellite, but do understand that happenings like this are not unheard of."

Isadora just nodded silently.

"And be prepared to come back in tomorrow morning for an official deposition. We're going to need all the detail we can get on this—_intruder_ so we can be prepared if he ever decides to show up again.

"That's all for today, Kelley. Now I suggest you go home and get some rest before your next night shift."

She immediately turned on her black-shoed heel and walked straight out of his office, completely ignoring Agent Coulson, standing at the doorway, who gave her an apologetic smile.

Isadora was fuming on the inside despite her calm-looking countenance as she stormed down the hall. She was angry at Fury for babying her instead of really, truly believing her. She could tell by his patronizing look that he didn't entirely believe in her. SHEILD was all about proof, and Isadora had none. She was angry at herself, because of her stupid mistake that could have been easily prevented. Angry at that stupid idiot who ruined her night shift that was going so well, the idiot who made intelligence go apeshit over the satellite, making sure the readings and predictions for its magnetic field weren't compromised, since the incident happened so close to the atrium where the satellite was located.

For some reason, that idiot never appeared on the security cameras. After she called for code red, there was no one to be found, and the guards scoured every tape and motion sensor to see if it had picked anything up. To Isadora's frustration, there was nothing. Not even a blip in a motion sensor past her movements in the hallway. It was enough for Isadora to ram her fist through the papery walls outside of Fury's office.

Isadora stopped walking and regrouped for a moment in the hallway. It was the hallway right before the one where it happened, she thought to herself. _Ugh. Don't think about that_, she said to herself. _Until then, let's just change, go home and take it all out on the punching bag in the garage_. She sighed, running a hand down her face and neck. It had been a long twenty-four hours, and she was exhausted. A hot bath sounded like heaven. She wanted to wash away these last twenty-four hours, to start over. Maybe Fury will forget all about this eventually...

"After the punching bag session, of course," she said to herself quietly.

"What was that, Kelley?" a familiar voice called over her shoulder.

_Fuck_. It was Coulson. Her face went slightly pink but she recovered quickly. "Oh, nothing, I'm just ready to get the hell out of here," she muttered.

"You mean get away from Fury?" Coulson raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Trust me, everyone gets a talk from him at some point during their training. You have to screw up at least once, it's kind of a rite of passage."

Isadora thought about it for a minute, looking up at Coulson. As usual, he had his earpiece, suit, and expensive wristwatch on, looking as suave as ever with his soft smile. Coulson always knew what to say to cool her off, she thought to herself. It had only been, what, two weeks? All the time that Coulson had spent training her, getting to know her personality, strengths, weaknesses—it formed a weird little friendship. _I say _little_ because he is, first and foremost, my boss._ On the first few days of training, she didn't expect him to be as handsome as he was. Not so much handsome in looks, but his smiling eyes, the way he carried himself—

She snapped out of her reverie to answer. "Yeah, I guess. I'm just—ready to get away for a bit—regroup, you know? It's been a long night." She started to orient her body away from Coulson. Isadora was growing impatient. Not to mention uncomfortable. was she really thinking about his _smiling eyes?_ She inwardly kicked herself for her head being where it wasn't supposed to be.

Coulson just nodded and waved goodbye. He had gotten the picture almost the moment Isadora thought about leaving._ Wow, he's that good_, she thought to herself briefly before heading back to go through the atrium.

Her walk allowed some of the thoughts to creep back into her head. Maybe she really was crazy. Maybe it was all in her head, her mind playing tricks on her, Isadora allowed momentarily. But—those glinting emerald eyes. That ink black hair. She couldn't make that up. He was towering over her even when he was so many feet away, over her petite stature. And he was dressed to the nines—an expensive-looking three-piece suit, complete with a wool gray overcoat and matching hounds tooth scarf. The image was so clear in her mind. He looked as shocked as she did, at least for the moment that their eyes locked. And then—she panicked. And he was gone. Just like that. Isadora wished that he had been there just for a few seconds more, maybe to get him to talk, blink—_anything_.

But what couldn't escape the front of her mind was who that man could possibly be. He seemed so strange. He definitely wasn't from around here, or else she would have recognized him from around this tiny town. He almost looked foreign; at her best guess she thought he was perhaps Dutch or Swedish. Last semester, in her History of 1492 America class, there was a boy form the Netherlands that was as tall as him. Except the Netherlands boy had striking blue eyes and bleach-blonde hair, not jet-black hair and green eyes...

For some reason she broke away from her pensive state to look up when she arrived at the atrium. And who should be walking through, eyeing the satellite with greed, but that Dutch black-haired douchebag from last night. _Same outfit and everything, _she thought. _Just like a cartoon character._

At first, Isadora froze, but she broke out into a sprint after that beat of hesitation.

This time she was going to catch him.

"Hey! _You!" _She called out instinctively.

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_Phew! Another cliffhanger! I mean, I've got to keep you reading somehow, right? Please let me know what you think of the story so far, this is probably the first chapter that I'm not entirely satisfied with. Hopefully the next chapter will take the bad taste out of my mouth, so to speak. I wonder what Loki will do when he realizes that Isadora _STILL _can see him...! :)_


	6. A Strange Rendezvous

_And now I present to you, chapter six! About time, too! Sorry to keep all of you waiting ;) So without further ado...!_

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Loki knew the instant he heard those words what he'd have to do. It wasn't going to be easy, but he shuddered at the thought. Fraternizing with a Midgardian—a female one, no less—was not on his agenda at all. For some reason, she was spoiling his fun. And Loki did not like that one bit.

His camouflage was the strongest he could possibly muster. Sometimes if Thor wasn't paying attention, Loki could easily nick things from his brother's room, or unhook one side of his cape without Thor batting an eye. Sometimes he'd trick his very own father by stealing the grapes right off his golden platter during supper! But when he returned back to Asgard in the early hours of the morning after his second evening in New Mexico, he was more that just a bit put out.

In a flash of anger Loki had thrown down his golden helmet, clattering to the bedroom floor and consequently knocking over a small desk littered with parchment. He didn't care who could hear his tantrum. He just wished there was... some explanation for why that damned _girl_ could have seen him.

He threw off his cape, settling softly onto the floor next to his helmet. _Perhaps... no,_ he thought. "No," he had said aloud. His silvertongued word slid through the vaults of his ceiling. No. _There was no way. Perhaps it was just a fluke. A trick of her eye. Maybe she just happened to make eye contact._

_No matter,_ he had thought, taking off breastplate and tunic before slinking into his bed chambers, _she won't even notice me if I were standing square in front of her tomorrow_, as he rifled through his mental Roledex of disguising spells. Stuff that even escaped mother and father at times. He had gone to sleep comforted by the old script that he had memorized in his most prized spell books.

But deep down he knew that the girl would still see him today. For some reason it didn't surprise him that she still saw him, here and now. When she had called out to him, when she began to head over towards him, he thought absentmindedly, _What if... she's no Midgardian?_

_Impossible. No. She's working for their own government, what non-human would preoccupy themselves which such a _boring_ job?_

All this was going through his head at once, but by the time she was halfway across the atrium something came from her lips that made his palms sweat. Something that made him second guess himself for the first time in years.

She said his name.

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Everything went fuzzy for Isadora. Like a silent film, everything was grainy and blurry, but for some reason that man was crystal clear in her eyes. Clear as a memory that had appeared and reappeared in her head thousands of times. She felt the sensation of seeing a familiar face you hadn't seen in years. Decades. Centuries.

_"Loki."_

Like a reflex, those syllables managed to form and come out of her mouth without Isadora realizing it.

Everything happened at once afterwards. The reaction on this man's face. His ears almost literally perked up, like a dog's. His flickering eyes widened, in surprise or fear, Isadora didn't know. She felt the blood rush up to her face, and she knew she was blushing furiously. The way both of them reacted was so odd, Isadora couldn't quite put her finger on it. She couldn't describe it because, frankly, she had never felt anything like it before. But then it hit her like a ton of bricks, the way the man reacted, that she had uttered his name. That was his name.

Loki.

During all of this, Isadora had faltered in completing her beeline for this man named Loki. She must have looked like an idiot, standing in the middle of the atrium. To make matters worse, she as only about a yard away from the perimeter blocking of the satellite that Loki was already next to. Everyone must have been looking at her. No, everyone _was_ looking straight at her. She could feel pairs of eyes, not just Loki's, boring down on her.

Her solution was to cough violently, and kept circling around the perimeter of the satellite towards Loki. Eventually the eyes peeled away from her even though she felt like drowning into the cement floor. Her eyes stayed locked on Loki. The man.

_Loki._ Was that even his name? How did she know?

"Loki," she said again, this time quietly. Tuning out for a moment, she could hear the white noise that was the workers talking and walking around in the atrium return to a more normal, buzzing sound.

He responded in the same way, except this time she could study his reaction more closely since this time they were only about six inches apart, staring at each other square in the face. Whether it was shock, awe, terror, or all of the three—Isadora had no idea. But she had a plan, at least.

"Ladies' room. _Now._"

She turned on her heel and, without looking back once, headed toward the west main hall toward the women's restroom. Like a true SHIELD agent, she kept her head held high. As if Isadora didn't feel already embarrassed enough. She wasn't planning on making a scene about him. If she did, he would make a run for it without a doubt, so that definitely was null and void in her plan book. This guy was elusive, there was certainly no doubt about that, after he practically disappeared into thin air that night. So she decided to be elusive too. She was going to try her best to play his game.

By the time she was nearing the end of the hallway, however, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. If this—_Loki—_realized that she knew his name, why would he bother listening to her orders? She was not a friend, nor was she an ally. Isadora couldn't think of a single reason why he would follow her into a tiny bathroom. If she were armed she would be able to shoot him point-blank. With her back still turned to Loki (that is, if he was there), she slowly lifted her hands in the air, barely above her shoulders. Letting him know that she was unarmed. She didn't know if that changed anything since she could hear nothing but a deafening silence. But as she finally rounded the corner to the tiny alcove where the women's restroom was located, she could see a dark green figure flit behind her, just out of the corner of her eye.

The moment she saw his armor round the corner with him, she jumped a foot in the air. _He was still there_. Right behind her. Her palms started sweating profusely because she had no idea what was going to happen in the bathroom. Maybe Loki was planning to kill Isadora right then and there once the door was locked. She couldn't see any gun tucked away. Besides, his figure was so slim and thinly covered that, other than his steel grey breastplate, Isadora couldn't imagine where he could possibly store a weapon.

Maybe he didn't need one.

Instead of pulling open the heavy door that led into the stalls she chose to take her stance over near the drinking fountain. Few people came near the women's bathroom anyway, but she still prayed silently that no one would see her—god forbid, see her talking to an invisible person.

Turning around, Isadora's heart leaped into her throat. She knew full well he was behind her but his gaze, his presence—she wasn't sure whether to cower or to swoon. His commanding silhouette was simply overwhelming.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you've brought me here?"

It took her a good five seconds to respond, to form the words in her head before they spilled clumsily out of her mouth. "Well, I'm—I'm—Why is it that—you can—I mean, why is it that _I_ can see you—when nobody else can?"

His graceful eyebrow floated down to form a steely gaze. To make matters worse for Isadora, he took a large step toward her, making them only inches apart from each other. It was starting to get difficult for Isadora to concentrate. She blinked hard and perked her ears up as he opened his mouth to speak. "The better question would be, Why is it that you know my own name when I have never seen you in my life?"

She could do nothing but shake her head, positively nonplussed. And feeling a bit lightheaded...

Someone was rounding the corner. Isadora clapped a hand over her mouth. Loki looked over his shoulder for half of a second, turned on his heel, and dissolved into the air right before her.

Isadora didn't realize the true gravity of the situation until Coulson was shaking her awake. She was lying on the floor, feeling nauseous, dizzy, but mostly disappointed that Loki was gone.

_xxxxxxxxxxx_

_Cray cray!_

_Comment and review, my lovely readers! Love, Felicia_


	7. Aria on the Roof

_Oh my... the Avengers...! I'm sure I'll find some way to work all that amazing LOKI-ness into my story... but for now, here we go. Enjoy, my lovely readers!  
><em>

xxxxx

The calm cool breeze on the rooftop soothed her. Coming up here always usually cleared her thoughts. It did for a few seconds, at least. Usually the punching bag downstairs got everything out of her after a hard day, but that was unsuccessful after she punched so hard she bruised a knuckle, even through all of that bandage wrapping around her hand.

Before her lay a tattered songbook, with the worn cover duct taped to her music stand so that it wouldn't blow away with the strong winds, especially at this height.

She was going to harness all of her tension and push it out into her voice work. Just like boxing, but—more mentally and psychologically releasing than the boxing. Maybe this would be better after every night shift, she thought to herself.

Right after the shower after her unsuccessful boxing practice, Isadora had lay on her bed, allowing her mind to wander. She lightly held one of her old teddy bears, stroking its fur absentmindedly while turning over what had happened in the last few days. Her bright eyes glazed over to a dull grey luster while her mind overtook her, flipping through her memories like flipping through pages in a picture book.

That man named Loki... that unbelievable man with his raven hair... she could not get him out of her mind. Even when she tried thinking of something else, his presence still seemed to linger. Sometimes she mistook her peripheral thoughts for actual presence and snapped her head around, only to realize there was nothing there. _Loki_. She even said it aloud, right then and there in her bedroom. Just lightly playing about her lips, even someone right in front of her could have hardly heard her saying it.

"Loki."

Perhaps she expected something to happen. She waited with bated breath for a few seconds and then—nothing. She was the tiniest bit disappointed, but of course, she refused to admit that to herself. She brought the bear to her face, looking at it quizzically.

"What the hell is wrong with me, Teddy?" she asked him. His glassy brown eyes only smiled.

"Well, you're no help," Isadora said rather sadly. She threw herself on her bed in a huff.

She thought back to what she called the second incident. Waking up in Coulson's arms was far more embarrassing than disappointing. Blushing furiously, she threw herself upward and, without so much as a decent thank you for Coulson, she walked off in a huff. Looking back, Isadora felt like she acted awfully rude toward him. She made a mental note to apologize to him later. _It's Coulson, he'll understand_, she thought to herself. _At least it wouldn't be apologizing to Fury... _again_._

The rational part of her mind told her to leave this Loki business all behind. Besides, she had bigger fish to fry at the moment. No doubt Coulson would relay all of this to Fury. Coulson was his right-hand man. Fury probably wouldn't formally reprimand Isadora for it, but he would certainly have put her on his watch list if he hadn't already. For all she knew, this could be written in as a strike two in her ledger. The most sensible thing for her to do at this point would be to forget Loki. Forget the man that was invisible to everyone but her, and focus on what was important—getting on better terms to Fury and Coulson by working hard and showing for it. She didn't take this so-called internship on for nothing. After all, she had expectations to more or less live up to. _Dr. Selvig_ to Nick Fury and S.H.E.I.L.D., but _Grandpa Erik_ to her.

But her mind said otherwise. Loki was always there, lurking quietly inside her head. Whenever her thoughts would so much as quiet down, Loki's face would flash before her. Now, he was no longer some person. He was an anomaly, something Isadora simply could not explain.

Loki was beyond reason, and that really fucking bothered her.

Isadora could explain biochemistry and astrophysics to a toddler. She was accepted into UNM's graduate program for a reason. Growing up, Grandpa Selvig had explained everything to her—why the sky was blue, what made a car work, or what compound was commonly used for extracting minerals. She always had the answers, and even when she didn't, she worked relentlessly to get one. When she did find the answer, her mind was at ease. It calmed her that almost everything could be explained after a little hard work and some experimentation. But for some reason, when it came to this _Loki, _she was completely at a loss.

Perhaps some singing would calm the storm throughout her mind.

On the roof, everything was so beautifully calm. The wind swirling around her ruffled her hair, and Isadora inhaled the cool breeze with a deep sigh. Even though it was windy, the slight moisture in the air made for a perfect climate to practice her favorite pieces. Humid nights like these were rare in central New Mexico, where usually arid nights took over the whole desert. The recent storm had brought in clouds and moisture with it, and Isadora was so grateful. She hated practicing in her tiny bedroom with thin walls, and neighboring ears picking up her melodies. She preferred to let the wind carry away her voice every once in awhile. Sometimes Isadora wondered if there was anyone else on a neighboring rooftop that could hear her voice on a windy night like this.

Isadora propped her book open to her favorite aria and started her breathing exercises. Big inhale, big exhale—she pretended to wash away all the negativity and stress with each exhale, recalling some cheesy yoga DVD that her cousin lent her a few months ago.

"Here we go," she said brightly. Even after a few minutes on the roof she could feel her head tingling with anticipation to let it all out.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loki stood on the sparkling edge of the bridge, his hand placed over his mouth as he stared off into the distance of the stars and planets that sparkled below him. She was only a speck, light years away from Loki on Asgard, with his brother on the same tiny sphere that they called Earth—

He scowled, turning on his heel and ran his hand through his hair when he had realized that it was certainly not the first time that his thoughts had landed on that girl. She wasn't the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but what he couldn't shake for the life of him was her voice. It was haunting him in a way he simply could not describe. The way her melodic notes would wander into Loki's thoughts—it was almost disturbing.

And yet, Loki didn't seem to mind. He had surmised that listening to her voice was like experiencing déjà vu. He had heard the voice before, but he couldn't remember where or when. It was off-putting and disorienting just thinking back to when he had first heard it.

"Something on your mind, sir?"

Loki had forgotten about the one person he was sure to run into on the Bifrost. A towering man dressed in full armor stood like a statue a couple of yards away from him. His eyes were a bright ochre yet they glinted like the cold ice of Jotunheim.

"Hello, Heimdall," Loki said, finally turning around to face him. "I suppose I just—miss Thor. I really think I do." He smiled gently at Heimdall but his gaze was still far away into the depths of Yggdrasil.

"Your brother is not the only one on your mind." Although his voice was just as steady as his last question, Loki knew Heimdall was stating this as a fact. Other than his own father, Heimdall was probably the only one in Asgard who could see through Loki's silvertongued lies. He looked up and, even though the man of steel did not reveal any expression whatsoever, Heimdall knew he wasn't wrong.

"Heimdall, Asgardians have—traveled between worlds before, haven't they? Have they ever stayed this long?" The words came out before Loki could stop himself. His lips pressed into a long, thin line, wishing he had. If Heimdall wasn't completely sure about his last statement, this would confirm it.

Yet his face still remained deadpan. "Yes. Albeit uncommon, many have visited realms like Midgard. But few have stayed."

Loki tried to control the conversation, even though he was itching to ask more. "I doubt Thor will stay long. Something tells me his—_stature_—" he couldn't resist but to smile at his own subtle joke— "Would give himself away only all too soon."

Heimdall practically ignored him. "An Asgardian woman once visited Midgard—for a very long time, at that. She had planned to stay there only briefly, but when she had returned to Asgard after performing a task for her husband on Midgard, he had abandoned her, so she disappeared inexplicably. I often hear stories of her spirit still living on in Midgard, although that is something I myself am not so sure about."

Loki's brow furrowed. Wherever he thought this was going, it had been turned completely upside down.

But before he could make any sense of it, a sound echoed, ever so lightly and softly. It wasn't around Loki and Heimdall, it was... it was like some sort of signal. It was something extrasensory, a beautiful sound that emerged inside their heads. Somehow, some way, a song was being sung, and Loki knew exactly where—and who—the song was coming from.

It was her.

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_Oh my GOD! That took FOREVER! I'm so sorry about how long it took to update but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect. Well, I'm in no place to say whether it's perfect or not, but I can say that I'm really happy with it. AHHHHH! I hope you guys enjoy, please COMMENT/REVIEW! I especially want to hear what y'all think of the Loki/Heimdall scene. I took a risk writing it, but I hope it's a good choice... Yeah, that's all I'm going to say...!_

_Also, another shameless plug, I don't know how many of you know but I run a Loki/Tom Hiddleston blog on tumblr. My username is princessofasgard, I would love some messages and new friends who love Loki as much as I do!_


	8. Consideration

She was utterly lost in the song. There was no accompanying music and yet she heard the strings, the piano, the swelling melody that grew ever louder with the crescendo of the rhythm matched her voice.

It was pure bliss for her, even though the song was dark and foreboding, it still lit a fire in her. The sensation in her stomach could only be described as—soaring. It was so wonderful, so liberating, the anxieties that had been plaguing her mind earlier were now nonexistent. Sometimes she even caught herself smiling rather maniacally, her eyes wide and cheeks rosy.

Her last note, a note far above the treble staff, pierced the air. She sang with such urgency, such fire, that the high E was almost shrill. The note still hung in the air even when she ran out of breath.

Isadora was actually panting by the time she had let out that last note. Slightly doubled over, her eyes were locked on the floor of the roof. The industrial lamps illuminated the concrete, creating patterns across the textured stucco that covered the roof. She plopped down on the floor, sitting cross-legged, and brought her face closer the patterned concrete. Slowly she reached out a hand and brushed her palm against the stucco. It was gritty, hard, and cold underneath her hand when she dragged it across the floor. She noticed that either her skin was unbelievably hot or it was a lot colder outside than she thought. Combined with her big coat and scarf, space heater perched on the ledge, and hot breath from singing, she was in her own little bubble of heat while she was singing. Everything outside of it was at least twenty degrees cooler.

She leaned her head back, and exhaled into the night sky, releasing a breath of hot air. Her breath became a stream of vapor, dancing into the black void, where there was not even so much as a star. Somehow, seeing her breath materialize in the air, Isadora made them her stress, anxiety, and everything that had been eating away at her for the past couple of days. They all escaped her lungs, just like that, floating away and dissipating into nothing.

Isadora even laughed aloud quietly, allowing a few quick, short puffs of warm air to escape from her lips. For some strange reason, Agent Coulson came to mind, and how he had made her blush for the first time. Until then, she never realized how handsome so many of her cohorts were… maybe there was something in the water, she mused.

She was beginning to feel better already. She felt the crick in her neck loosen up, her lungs warm from her high E, and her whole body running off of the energy and adrenaline that came from the music. And just as she exhaled those feelings, the longings, the yearnings of that entire day...

They all came flooding back in a flicker of a shadow out of the corner of her eye.

Was it the flapping of a cape? A shock of black hair that stood out against the garishly lit beige rooftop? Or maybe she just sensed him...?

No, that's ridiculous, Isadora thought to herself. She was good, but not that good. _Not yet, anyway. _Either way, something had caught her attention very quickly, and within a blink of an eye, she was on her feet, turned a complete one hundred and eighty degrees, and had her hands up to her chin, balled up in pale fists. She was ready for whatever—no, whomever—it was when they emerged from a dark shadow.

She hardly even blinked when she saw who it was. But that didn't change her stature. She stood her ground while Loki surveyed her almost—dare she think—cautiously? His eyes were fixed on her, unblinking just like hers, and he had his palms open and bare at his sides—as if to show that he meant no harm.

A silky smooth purr of a voice emerged from him. "Please. I come in peace."

Isadora let out a scoff. "Really? Funny, whenever strange men—or whatever the hell you are-tell me that on rooftops at midnight, it's usually not the truth."

"You knew my name. How?"

She shrugged. "How do I know I'm not crazy and that you're not just some apparition I've made up in my head?"

He let out a low laugh. Loki's otherwise pure tenor voice had now become deep and gravelly with what was almost a snicker.

"What if I told you I needed your help?" He gave a simpering smile, oozing out the aura of a British gentleman. Isadora knew, though, his accent wasn't quite British. Something else glimmered among the speech patterns and mannerisms—something she had never heard before. That, paired with his strange armor and fox-like gait, Isadora knew this man was not to be trusted.

But that didn't stop her from pretending.

"Out with it, then. What do you want?"

"I need help to rescue my brother. You know, the one you and your little team of officers are holding captive at the station outside of town."

It took a split second Isadora to realize whom he was talking about. A tall blond man had been put in a small holding cell for questioning only hours before Loki decided to make his initial appearance a few days ago. He claimed to be called Donald, and that he was a doctor at the nearby Albuquerque hospital.

"Your brother—what's his name?" Isadora decided to test him.

"Well, where we come from, he is called…Thor." Loki shaped his lips around his brother's name so delicately. When he did, he uttered it with the slightest hint of disdain. Isadora picked up on it immediately, quickly enough to know that he was telling the truth.

_Thor. Loki, and his brother Thor—now, why does that sound so familiar-?_ She thought to herself silently. Loki raised an eyebrow at her, sensing that her mind was wandering. "We had identified him as Donald. Doctor Donald Blake." She responded after a beat.

"Seems as if your little team isn't the most cutting-edge as I had thought," he said, shaking his head somewhat melodramatically.

Isadora rolled her eyes at him. "Okay, so his name is Thor. I'll be sure to add that to his file." Her voice was dripping with contempt. "What would we do without you, Loki?" she said hotly.

Loki raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Oh, this one has a bit of a temper."

"Yeah, well, keep me interested before you find out what happens next."

"Oh, alright, alright." Loki moved—no, _glided_—closer to where Isadora was standing her ground. Isadora tensed up again, waiting for him to make a move. The truth was, he stood stock still all over again, but this time only inches away from her.

"I need you to take me to my brother. _Now_. I'll only need a moment or two. Now, can you do this for me or not?"

"Loki, please, did you think I forgot about your little disappearing acts? You can't just teleport or throw yourself in there? Why do you need my help?"

This time, he looked almost just as ruffled as Isadora. "Let's not get into that now, shall we?"

Isadora could tell, for the first time since she had laid eyes in him, he was truly uncomfortable. She tried her best to play it to her advantage. "Well, you've kept me here long enough. Let's hear it," she said cheerfully. Grabbing her space heater, she pointed it at him and plopped down on the stuccoed concrete, even crossing her legs like a toddler and jauntily leaning towards him.

Loki just stared daggers down at her. From the ground, he looked three times as tall. "Just take me to him. You don't want to risk a little, ah—accident—at your precious facility, would you? Lose all that precious data confined in that tiny space? And also, I hear that satellite is something unprecedented here on—"

Isadora actually scoffed. "Wait, wait, wait. You're threatening me? When I'm literally the only one that can help you?" She laughed very loudly this time, so loud that her sharp cackle pierced the cold air with a metallic ringing. "Right now, you have absolutely no grounds to coerce me into bending to your will. Second of all, I cannot just waltz into the highly guarded cell of Donald Blake or whatever the hell his name is. It really isn't as simple as a command or a threat. Lastly, I have no reason to help you, so unless you have something to offer me, which I doubt, you can leave." Isadora smiled and stood up, turning away from Loki so she could gather her things to leave. "Thank you for your consideration, however."

"Consider this. I have information on your little satellite. Do me this kindness and I promise I can shed a bit of light on the matter. At least a great deal more than all of those worthless tests Fury's minions have been running day and night."

Isadora kept collecting her things, acting like she didn't listen. But the wheels were turning in her head. _Satellite… Fury… tests…?_ Loki must have spent a good deal of time gathering intelligence on SHIELD's activity. She did admit: it wouldn't have been terribly hard seeing as he was wearing some type of invisibility cloak to everyone. _Except for me, obviously._

"Okay, so you know enough about us and our little project." Isadora allowed. "Tell me about you. Why should I even be talking to you, let alone _considering _helping you?"

"You're a lowly minion." Loki sneered at her. "Sure, this might be a short-term risk for you, but if you provide ground-breaking information to your elders, then perhaps you won't be a petty servant for much longer."

"I'm an _intern_, not a servant, you little shit," Isadora snapped. Loki raised an eyebrow again, but this time the tiniest smile appeared. That made Isadora even angrier. "And you didn't answer the question you've been constantly avoiding. _Who the hell are you?_"

Loki sighed. "I was thinking about telling you the truth, considering you are the only one that is miraculously able to look on me unwillingly, however, I don't think we know each other well enough for that yet." He threw her a pitying gaze, going well past the point of jest.

Isadora could see through his little simpers. Everything he was doing was raising red flags. _The truth?_ What was he, a spy? A ninja soldier working for some foreign government service? And what the hell did he mean by _we didn't know each other well enough_? Isadora didn't even bother with a response. She just stared at him, eyes narrowed down to a pair of slits.

"I'm not a spy. I'm not trying to infiltrate you or your organization." This time Loki looked at Isadora dead in the eye, deadpan.

"I just want to talk to my brother."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx

Loki had gotten rid of his armor, trying to blend in with the earthlings. He wore a simple, thin black tunic with matching black leather pants. His boots, however, still glimmered with its shin pads. He figured he'd leave at least some sort of flair on for the hell of it.

He walked inconspicuously among the straggles of passerby emerging from cafes and bars, heading home to turn in for an early evening. As he strode against the flow of the foot traffic, he couldn't help but think about Isadora. Her face, her features, and her ridiculous temper were all echoes of a far-off memory Loki once had—but most of all, her voice gave him gooseflesh he'd never felt in eons. When she talked, it roused something in Loki to where he didn't know whether to embrace her and make love to her, or kill her. It was something strong. But even stronger yet was when she said his name. _Loki_. Those feelings he had were amplified by a thousand when she uttered his name, shaping her beautiful pink lips around those two syllables.

And when she sang—Loki didn't even want to think about that. Something in his mind would go off, like a tolling bell, so terrible and yet so magnificent—he was going mad with why this was making him act like this.

It took him a good few minutes to actually remember the conversation they had had. She didn't say yes, but she didn't give an outright no. Not after she had heard his side of the bargain. She was still skeptical, though. Loki turned back toward where Isadora's place of residence was, only perhaps a stone's throw away from him. She was probably sitting in there, mulling over their exchange of words just like he was now. Loki still had to think of a way to prove his word to her. He'd think of something, he thought to himself assuringly.

However, Loki had surmised one thing after today: He was not going back to Asgard. Not now, anyway. Calling up Heimdall would mean admitting to defeat. _Not that it mattered, anyway. Heimdall could see everything down here._ No, it wasn't just a matter of pride for Loki: He was playing a part. It was part of the faithful brother, trying his damnedest to get in contact with Thor so that he could report back to Asgard that all was well, in particular his mother who was worried sick. Most of all, he loved Thor, didn't he? The faithful younger brother that was always at Thor's beck and call? His assumed devotion to Thor was the only reason that he had decided to stay on this wretchedly dull planet.

Also, it didn't help that this human girl named Isadora was the most beautiful, fiery, confusing, and mysterious creature Loki had ever met in his whole life.


	9. Dance Music

Isadora was sitting in her bedroom, her head resting in her hands. It felt like it weighed a ton, this great pulsating boulder between her small shoulders ached in her palms. Here eyes were screwed shut.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do? Just waltz in there and expect Fury to give me access to this suspect's holding cell?_

Isadora scowled loudly and punched a pillow sitting on her purple bedspread. Loki wasn't just pissing her off, he was also working her into a corner. Who knew what kind of power he was capable of? Even though his threats came off as rather petty, Isadora knew he was the type of person who would not like it when he didn't get what he wanted. This man wasn't just a regular man. What could he be capable of…?

Suddenly Isadora was broken from her stream of thought. It took her half a second to realize what the ruckus was, but someone was ringing her doorbell. Repeatedly and nonstop. The signature of her best friend, naturally.

"Dammit. CAT, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Still pressing a palm to her forehead, she managed to stumble over to the door and wrench off the locks and deadbolts before Cat practically burst down the door. There she stood, her best friend, holding a thin black clutch purse, wearing a tight sapphire blue dress and a deep frown, clouding her normally sparkling eyes. They still looked as vivid than ever, paired with her dazzling blue frock.

Isadora knew what was up, so before Cat even thought about opening her mouth, Isadora pushed back a lock of dark hair casually, and mumbled, "Okay, okay, I forgot. I'll get dressed."

It was Friday night. Cat, being the social butterfly she was, always managed to wheedle Isadora into going out for drinks and perhaps even dancing to a song or two at a local club. Isadora enjoyed herself as much as someone could wearing a dress you couldn't breathe in and heels you couldn't walk in, but it wasn't exactly something she planned out weekly like Cat did. Sure, dancing was nice, and it was even nicer to have a boy buy you a drink every so often. But being in a deafening bar wasn't her idea of a place to meet a boy, let alone have the time of her life. Besides, she knew that her best friend would be the one to plan everything. Cat forgetting their Friday night outings would more than likely mean the end of the world as she knew it.

Isadora turned on her heel and headed straight to her bedroom. Cat followed suit, but rather than Isadora reaching for the closet door, Cat barged in to her small walk-in unit, and immediately began yanking out dresses while babbling on about the latest hot gossip.

"Okay, so Drew is DJ'ing at the new bar down on 5th… he can get us in if we say we're with him to the bouncer… I think Jason will be there, I hope he's not dating that skank still… He is so hot, I swear, y'all would make the cutest couple… Oh my god, I totally forgot I lent you this dress, I'm taking this sexy little thing back… Oh my god oh my god, _wear this Issy_, this is so amazing, it will go perfect with your skin tone!"

"Huh?" Isadora cast a glance at the blur of cloth Cat threw down onto the bed. It was a deep olive green sleeveless dress, with a short circle skirt and little brass buttons that went down the front. Isadora ran her hand over the fabric, and it was surprisingly soft. Soft meant comfortable, and that worked for her. Isadora just shrugged and started tearing off her work clothes. She tugged the dress over her head, and the stretchy soft fabric managed to flatter her perfectly, draping over her curves in all the right places.

As Cat showered her with compliments, Isadora couldn't help but let her mind wander once more. This was kind of perfect. She could have a few drinks, forget the whole _Loki situation_, dance her cares away for the night, and just not worry about it until tomorrow. There wasn't much she could do now, and there was no point obsessing about it all night.

"We are gonna be some sexy fucking bitches when we walk in, Issy." Cat linked her right arm with Isadora's left.

"I guess we're not too shabby, huh?" Isadora responded. "Wait, Cat? What about my…" she gestured to her hair and face. "Head?" The last time she looked into a mirror, Isadora's hair situation had looked like something a cat had coughed up onto the carpet.

Cat gasped. "Oh, my, don't worry, you fairy makeup mother is here to fix it for you. Go get your lipstick and hairspray." She whipped out a hairbrush from her bag as if it were a weapon. Isadora couldn't help but burst out laughing while she walked to her bathroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Issy! ISSY!" She started jumping up and down and squealing, her perfectly groomed blond head dancing to and fro. "It's your jam!"

"What?" Isadora bellowed. Why Cat even bothered talking in this ridiculous electronic dance music club was beyond her.

Cat jabbed a manicured nail at the ceiling, mouthing, "Your song!"

Isadora tilted her head toward the dance floor, trying to make out the melody from the superfluous amount of bass that was spilling from the giant speakers next to Drew, Cat's lanky DJ friend that got them into the club.

It was a funky guitar riff that, after only a few licks, Isadora instantly knew the song. It was surprisingly laidback compared to the digital noise that Drew was spurting out earlier. Yet it still had a backbeat that pulsated through her body, it made Isadora want to jump out of her chair and dance. It was one of her favorite songs. It made her think of those crazy 4am antics with Cat back in high school. She remembered hearing this song in the car with Cat after a crazy party. They were sobering up, the sun was coming up, and best of all, it was nobody but them, their car, and the whole orange sky that bid them farewell on their way home from that night.

Isadora started dancing in her seat along with Cat. She could feel the eyes of others boring into her back. Before she left her apartment, she had looked into the mirror and saw that Cat had made her into a different person. Even getting out of the cab from the club, men were looking at her differently. Her smoky black eye shadow and red lipstick made her into someone different. She liked that, not because it got her attention, but because she could act like someone different. Someone who didn't have her menial problems, her anxieties, her fears, her job-

She took her hand, drug her best friend out onto the floor, and they whipped their arms and perfectly groomed tendrils of hair back and forth. Even though they were the lone pair on the dance floor for the first verse, eventually more couples sidled up and began to pulsate to the infectious beat. By the chorus, she was already smiling and laughing with Cat. Usually she needed a few and at least one cute boy to get to this upbeat mood, but this time she threw away her cares willingly, mindfully. She didn't even _think_ about _that man—_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was four, five drinks in? Isadora couldn't quite recall.

"Cat!" Isadora was the one yelling now. She giggled uncontrollably when Cat whipped her hair around to the beat. "Cat, let's get another drink!"

Cat was far past Isadora in terms of intoxication. She was in her own world, dancing passionately to a song neither of them new the words to. The beat was no longer a relaxing backbeat with a smooth vibe, it was a piercing techno riff with matching strobe light flashing violently above them.

"CAT!" Isadora said in tandem with a poking an index finger in her side. No signs of reaction whatsoever. Isadora sighed and tried yelling in her ear, informing Cat that she would be over by the bar.

In her towering chocolate-brown stilettos, Isadora staggered over to the bar, clasping onto the railing for dear life. She batted her curled eyelashes at the bartender and yelled for a vodka cherry sour. She downed it in less than 10 seconds, slammed it on the bar counter, and the bartender poured another instantly. She took out some money, but her beauty made the bartender politely refuse any compensation.

_I should dress like this all the fucking time… maybe Fury or Coulson will do more favors for me…_

Nope, she said to herself. No. Sober Isadora was butting into the fun she was having, and she wasn't having any of that. Fun, drunk, carefree Isadora held the reigns tonight. She was going to—

As she spun around to find Cat, she ran headfirst into a tall dark-haired man. He looked like he smiled at her, said something, and she just nodded, pointing to the dance floor, pretending like she understood what he was trying to tell her.

She forgot how it happened. But the man, who was cute in khakis and a blue shirt, began dancing with her. He smelled nice. Pretty soon Isadora's funk song came on again and she screamed the lyrics drunkenly.

Isadora began getting more bold with every verse. By the end of the breakdown, she had her hands spread across his chest, her legs tucked in between his, and her lips dangerously close to his beautifully blurry mouth. He did the rest of the work, and after blinking, the man had his lips on hers, kissing and moving his tongue into her mouth. It was ecstasy. Their bodies melded effortlessly. Somehow, this stranger seemed to know her body perfectly, his tall and lean frame somehow molding perfectly with her smaller, curvier silhouette. His hands traveled from her neck to her breasts to the small of her back, and it was nothing like she'd ever experienced.

After the song, he said something to her, and she said something back. What the exchange was, Isadora couldn't remember for the life of her.

But she was in a car.

And then it went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_WRITER'S NOTE!_

_Okay, thank you guys so much for waiting so long for these installments. I feel awful, but, alas, my personal life has kept me from writing. HOWEVER! This new song that's currently on repeat for me was what made me write this chapter. I wonder if you hardcore EDM fans can figure out what it is…._

_Alright, alright, if you don't know, it's Daft Punk's new song, Get Lucky. Isadora is a Daft Punk fan. ^^_

_The song just reminded me of how I wanted Isadora to come off as… she's a huge introvert but, when the opportunity presents itself, she can be very impulsive. Almost to the point of not acting herself…_

"_She's up all night to the sun, I'm up all night to get some, she's up all night for good fun, I'm up all night to get lucky…"_


	10. Discoveries

Isadora had next to her a water bottle, full of some pinkish liquid that was apparently some aid to her health because every other minute or so, she would grab for it and take a generous swig. The gulps would last longer if no one were looking.

"Did you not get a lot of sleep last night, Kelley?" Said Ian with a sneer in his voice. They had been working together for so long that they no longer addressed each other by their surnames, so this time, Isadora needed no other indication that he was facetiously trying to undermine her, as if giving a formal command of some sort.

"You could say that, _Walker_," she sneered back him. Unfortunately, her voice sounded ragged and only at about half of the volume Isadora would normally throw her passive-aggressive insults at.

"Look, you're obviously had a little too much fun the night before. You ought to get some rest, you're in no shape to be on surveillance tonight," Ian's tone became rather serious, and even though she knew he was going to do the nice thing and offer to cover her shift, it still touched a nerve. How did he know that Isadora had gone out tonight, anyway? What if she had had insomnia or developed sleep apnea? Why must everyone always assume that she had been out drinking, never mind the fact that it was actually true?

"Thanks for the offer, Ian, but you don't need to worry about me," she affirmed before Ian could even formally make an offer. "Even if I did go out last night," she threw him a dirty look while saying this, "I need to prove to Coulson and Fury that they can trust me. That they can depend on me. I don't want to be trading shifts off to whoever's asking. Does that make sense?"

Ian just stared for a few seconds. "Yeah, no. Of course, yeah." Ian still looked rather put out. _What? _Isadora thought. _It's not like he was asking me out on a date or anything. Sheesh._

Slowly, Ian began to collect his things, and waited until as late as he possibly could before clocking out and bidding adieu to Isadora for the night. Isadora just kept her gaze at the monitors, taking diligent notes and records, giving barely a glance and wave to Ian as he moved like molasses out of the bay doors and into the hallway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, that boy does seem quite taken with you, if I may be so bold."

Isadora should have braced herself—no wonder she had been so tense the past evening, she had been waiting for this idiot to come and bother her some more—but she had been caught off guard, her mind had not stopped wandering—about work, about Ian, about Coulson… And Loki had to come in and fuck everything up, right that second.

"Dammit! Can you just, _not_ sneak up on me like that anymore? I'm beginning to think you really are from some alien country. There's this thing here in America, lots of other continents too, actually, not sure if you're ever heard of them—doorbells? Or this revolutionary thing called knocking?"

Loki just sat there patiently, head cocked slightly to one side. "Are we quite finished?"

"I don't know," Isadora huffed a little too loudly. "Are you quite finished with randomly barging in on my life, expecting me to be at your every beck and call?" At the end of that, she found that, to her surprise, she was nearly shouting.

"We still have a deal, don't we?" Loki phrased it as a question, but it was obvious that there was only one answer to that.

"I still don't understand," Isadora said. "You seem to be able to—" Her voice faltered because, frankly, she didn't quite know how to put it. "You can basically magic your way through walls and security gates no problem. Why not just do that for Dr. Blake's cell?"

"Doctor Blake!" Loki exclaimed, half to himself. His expression was something of utter amusement as he looked up at the ceiling, black hair dipping back to touch his thin collar, and thin lips curling up into a simpering sneer.

Isadora rolled her eyes. "Okay, _Thor_, sorry," she amended after his chuckling died off. _God, this guy is getting on my nerves. _

"Ah, yes, the answer to your question," Loki's tone grew more earnest this time. His broad shoulders heaved as he gave a rather gusty sigh. "It is rather a long story, my dear Isadora," he half-whispered as he drew back his cloak to sit down on the seat next to his lone companion in the surveillance room. At the utterance of her name, Isadora's skin began to crawl, but she could not say why. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought Loki left her name on his tongue longer than any other word he'd cared to utter thus far. Whether it was to woo her, to intimidate her… whatever he was trying to do, she could feel the affects on her. But as a SHIELD agent-in-training, she knew to deflect any remote semblance of emotional bonding. At least, she tried.

"Go ahead, Loki." Instead, she chose to use his tricks right back at him, allowing her tongue to spend just a while longer resting on the roof of her mouth, as she began his name's first syllable. "I have all night."

Whether her attempt at reciprocating his silver-tongued advances worked, Isadora could not tell. Loki just sat still for a moment, chin resting in the palm of his hand. As long, deft fingers played across his mouth, Isadora could tell that he was thinking hard.

"Well, I suppose it's best if I were to just—start from the beginning," Loki sighed with a note of resign in his tone. Isadora just sat silently as she leaned forward ever so slightly toward his long, lean figure as he began his tale.

"Our father had ordered us to stay away from—this place, a place called Jotunheim. It's very far away, you likely haven't heard of. Let's just say this…place was very dangerous. The citizens there do not take kindly to outsiders, which is exactly why Father didn't want us going, you see.

"Well, Thor had just had his—er, nameday. He was coming of age. He was feeling on top of the world; absolutely nothing could stop him. Until some men from Jotunheim—up to no good, naturally—decided to ruin his big day. They stole into the depths of our home and stole a precious relic, spurring Thor to go after them and avenge what they did at all cost. We knew there was no stopping him, so his friends—and, of course, myself—went with him to Jotunheim.

"As you can probably guess, we got into—er—a spot of trouble, nothing too terrible," Loki said rather hastily, prompting Isadora to raise an eyebrow doubtfully. "But, Father had to come and break up the fight. And… he punished Thor by—well, by banning him from our home, to say the very least." Loki paused, looking down at Isadora to read her countenance.

Isadora stared at Loki. Before she began to bore holes into his sparking green eyes, she spoke, her eyes growing narrower all the time. "So, let me get this straight—your brother took you and his friends into a bad part of town after some gang messed with him on his birthday, all to go beat them up—just for that?"

Loki looked—could it be?—_nonplussed_. His mouth hung ever so slightly open, about to form a sentence, but then leaned back away from Isadora, shaking his head in resolve.

"Worse?" Isadora urged him on.

"Yes, yes, much worse," Loki waved her off rather dismissively, making Isadora feel rather put out. "Thor is never to return to our home again. Our Father has made sure of that. Thor had had powers similar to mine, but now—"

Isadora's mouth dropped open a bit. "Wait, he _took _them away from Thor? But—how is that even possible?"

Loki's gaze dropped even lower, shaking his head slightly. Isadora furrowed her brow. She had never seen Loki display any other type of emotion besides arrogance and bittersweet charm. And now…

"Thor is my brother, and I love him dearly," he said finally. "I wish to speak with him, perhaps offer words of comfort at the very least, but I cannot without your help. Father has put him in exile—no member of the family can willingly contact him. I can't even walk through that door if it were unlocked. And that is where you come in, Isadora."

There. He used her name yet again, and like clockwork, her entire head began to spin. She took a sharp inhale before answering. "So I'm somehow a—buffer to get you to talk to Thor?"

"Exactly," Loki breathed. "I can't do it alone, I'm afraid." Loki gave her a deep stare, and this time, his deep-green eyes were boring into hers. Isadora tried to remain expressionless. He was trying to read her like a book, but she tried with all her might to keep her guard up. She stood up a little straighter, her lips thinned into a line, and her gaze turned neutral as she prepared to speak.

"You said you knew about the satellite we have quarantined. Does that happen to be something belonging to you our your family, by any chance?"

"I have the information, but I am not at liberty to give you everything I know," Loki spoke carefully. He was speaking like a businessman at a conference room, Isadora noticed. This was a real negotiation, she was sure of it. People who are lying like to throw words around like they're not worth half a penny each—and Loki was not doing this.

Isadora still wanted more. "At least tell me where it's from. Tell me what its purpose is."

"It was Thor's. It belonged to my father, as it were."

If Isadora tried to get him to talk any more, it would be more short, curt sentences that only gave her so much. She took a hand and used her forefinger and thumb to pinch the bridge of her nose. Her headache was beginning to rear its head all over again. The wheels in her head had been turning nonstop, and so—

"We had fun last night, I trust?" Loki's silvery words slid in and around her ears. Even with her eyes closed—no, _especially _with her eyes closed, his voice made Isadora want to shiver fiercely.

"I… wait, what? How did you know that?" Isadora wrenched her eyes back open, this time to throw Loki and icy glare.

Loki just stared off into the glow of a computer screen, shrugging rather passively. "It appeared you made a good friend, too. Not just on the dance floor?" He dared to steal a glance at Isadora, who, after Loki slid his gaze over to her, had turned a brilliant shade of red.

"_How do you know about that?"_ This time, Isadora rose from her chair, managing her damnedest to tower over the black-haired man. But instead he just smirked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you not expect your personal life would ever run over into your work?" Loki asked, feigning innocence.

"Wait, are you SPYING on me? What the hell? _Spit it out_!" Isadora actually lunged at him this time, and although Loki had an initial look of surprise, his cat-like reflexes managed to hold her back by mere inches.

"Tell me you'll help me, and I'll tell you who you went home with," Loki said flatly. He gave her nothing more than a steely glare, which made Isadora even angrier because she knew he backed her into a corner.

"Alright! FINE!" She conceded, pushing him away and stalking to a corner. "Just tell me," she said. This time her voice was small. Isadora just wanted to get it over with. _Shit_, she thought. _What if it was Coulson—?_

"Oh, Isadora, what a night you gave me—I do hope we can do it again," His voice lilted playfully as he started sidling towards her side of the room.

"You're a wonderful lover, truly."


	11. Think of Me

M content ahead.

_Isadora couldn't seem to stop giggling. Tendrils of dark hair were falling into her face, but it was hard to tell if they belonged to her or her partner this evening. Though she could barely make out what he was saying, she did know that he was saying it all beautifully. His voice was wonderful, beautiful, it sounded like how pillows felt._

"_Stop laughing, pet, you're making me—" Loki tried to placate her giggling, but only halfheartedly, because he couldn't help but let out a chuckle of his own. That only made her laugh harder. She felt a slight pressure on her back, she figured she was being led somewhere—maybe. Isadora didn't really know where they were, and she didn't care, she was having the time of her life. She had to tell Loki something important, anyway._

"_I have to play you that song when we get home," she said with sudden focus. Her laughter had dissipated almost instantly when she remembered what they were talking about in the car earlier. "It's so awesome, can I play it? Please? I want to dance more, too, and we can totally dance to this song," she added hastily, wiggling her ass to show just how much she needed to dance. The pressure tightened on her back, traveling downward a little. She squealed lightly, relishing the fact that Loki's hand was getting closer and closer to her ass, and that she was pushed up right against his side while they were walking. Where they were walking, Isadora couldn't tell. The only conclusion she could come to was that she didn't want to stop being close to him. Looking up at him, she suddenly noticed that he towered above her. She noticed this earlier, but never really savored how Loki could just envelop her in his silhouette. "You're so tall," she sighed dreamily. He looked down at her and gave her a crooked smile that made her start giggling like a teenager all over again. "You know what they say about tall men, Loki…" she said, trailing off and raising an eyebrow suggestively._

"_I can't say that I do, my dear," Loki feigned confusion, but the twinkle in his eyes was still there. The corners of his mouth were twitching, waiting to see how Isadora would react. Poor girl had had quite a lot to drink, and he had to do a lot of convincing to get her to stop gulping down fruity cocktails and head back to her apartment. She didn't even seem to be aware of the fact that they were walking down the hallway of her apartment's floor. Whenever she wasn't laughing herself silly, she was staring with heavy-lidded eyes up at Loki. He tried to give some kind of a signal with his hand down her back, but it seemed like she just laughed it off. Gods, he'd wanted her since he'd first saw her, but not quite like this. He silently cursed himself for letting her drink so much, for he genuinely could not tell if she really wanted him, or if the alcohol had just made her a bit daft with lust. He hoped that by playing dumb he could maybe extricate a clearer form of intent from Isadora…._

"_You don't?" Isadora gasped, a hand flying to her open mouth. That didn't stop from letting small bouts of laughter escape. "Really? Well, it means you're supposed to have a big—"_

"_Ah, perhaps we should continue this thrilling conversation inside your apartment?" Loki offered up rather conveniently. Isadora unwrapped herself from Loki's grasp and looked around. They had been in front of her apartment door for quite some time now, she realized. As a kind of reflex, Isadora reached for her purse slung around her shoulder and began digging for her keys. She tried to peek at him from the corner of her eye, but failed spectacularly. Loki made her smile and giggle all over again. Yes, it was his entire fault she was acting this stupid, she never does things like this, but oh, how she loved being next to him. Maybe it was the way he smelled, the way he breathed, his chest growing a bit larger the longer they kept starting at each other…_

_Isadora tried to respond as soberly as possible, but failed spectacularly. "Oh, good, I have to sh-show you that song I was telling you 'bout." Shit, was she really that drunk? Oh well. Did she lose her fucking keys again…?_

"_Allow me," Loki said politely, giving Isadora a gentlemanly smile, but he was betrayed by the wicked glitter in his eyes. He reached for her purse, and lifted the keys out in about two seconds. Raising an eyebrow at first, he eyed Isadora with suspicion, but then he allowed for some middle ground. "I'm sure you helped, ah—loosen them up?"_

"_Ohmigod, yeah, my purse is a fucking mess," she said, shrugging it off. That was cool, right? He's totally into me. Fuck. Is this really going to happen?_

_Her mind was starting to race, among other things inside her: first her heart rate, and consequently, her lower stomach. At first Isadora thought she was going to be sick, but then she realized: _I'm horny._ For the first time in awhile, too, she thought to herself. As all these things were going through her mind like a flipbook, Loki had taken the liberty to opening the front door on his own. She looked up at him, smiled sheepishly, and then sauntered into her apartment. Suddenly she remembered. _

"_I'll be right back!" She cried, racing to the far corner of the living room. Isadora didn't have to run very far, Loki noticed, taking in their rather small surroundings. If her apartment were any smaller, she certainly wouldn't have any room for the striped blue-and-coral futon. Nonetheless, it looked rather nice, Loki thought forgivingly. She had some kitschy art pieces hanging on the wall, showing a somewhat alternative taste in art, complete with knickknacks from different cities all over the coffee table, bookshelves, and mantelpiece. It wasn't so much that she decorated, it was more like she just kept out her collection of souvenirs to give her visitors something to look at. She even had a few candles sitting on the island, but they were already almost burned to stubs. The apartment certainly looked lived-in, it was cozy, it was… her. It was all Isadora, Loki thought with appreciation._

"_What?" she almost shouted at Loki. He turned around in his spot, still stationed in the foyer, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "What, is it that bad? I'm sorry, I didn't expect for you to—" Isadora stopped herself. Loki was just laughing now. "What?!" she demanded to know just what the hell he found so funny about her apartment._

"_It's very you," he said simply, waving a hand about the room. "I mean that." _

_Isadora just stared at him defensively, narrowing her eyes, waiting for some kind of quip or sarcastic remark that usually follows from his lips. But… nothing. Loki just smiled at her, and continued to look around the apartment, exploring her cramped bookshelves and reading the books' spines. After surveying him for another long seconds, she whipped her head back toward her silver stereo. It was so small, was it even really a stereo? Whatever, she thought, as she started to scroll through her mp3 player as fast as she could, and consequently, very inaccurately, as Isadora kept skipping back and forth over the song she was aiming for. After cursing to herself a few times, the beat of the song suddenly started to pump through the speakers. It was impressive at how loud the song was, considering the speakers were only about the size of a tennis shoe. Even the bass was pumping, and she could feel it through her veins, pumping almost as fast as her heartbeat._

_Loki turned, averting his attention toward her. She didn't even notice his stare. She belonged to the melody as this moment, and she was even singing along to it—quite well, too, Loki thought to himself, considering she was in such an incapacitated state. With closed eyes, and arms rising and falling to the song, she was in a trance. He had never been so hypnotized by another person's body, he had realized. Yes, it was beautiful and it filled him with passion, but it was more than that—this moment, this was something she would do when no one else was around. It was so intimate, so personal, and Loki felt almost honored to be in the presence of a private moment that would have took place without him otherwise. But then, the moment broke, it was shattered as soon as Isadora opened her eyes. She laughed for a little, and then kept singing, starting to remove her jacket along to the beat of the stereo. He smiled, savoring the little dance she made of removing her rather heavy overcoat. Now, this wasn't just any personal, private moment—he slowly realized this as she made her way toward him. This was for him. For Loki. _

_She began to take off her shoes, tights, and dress, left with only a red bra and hot pink, silky underwear. Taking her hair down from its messily pinned updo, she gave another one of her flirting smiles. "What do you think?" It was all she could say without coming off as too crass. She wanted to be coy, to let him make the next move. But her body was betraying her thoughts as she ran a hand down the lapel of his coat._

_Loki took her hand, returning it back to her slowly. "You look—you look stunning," he began. "But Isadora, are you—are you sure you want to do something like this?" He asked, tipping her chin up so their eyes met, undisturbed. "You're quite drunk right now, and I don't want you waking up to something you regret."_

_Isadora purred under his grasp. "Loki, you know what turns me on more than anything?" she asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes._

"_What?" he asked blankly. His blood was boiling. He ached for her in every way possible, more than he ever had. Loki wanted to take her at this very second, and he was doing everything in his power to resist his body, which had begun to tighten up around his trousers. It had been so long since—since—_

_She removed Loki's hand from her chin, carefully and slowly snaking it around her hip as she reached up on her tiptoes to bring her moist lips to his ear. "Chivalry."_

_Furiously, clothes were torn off, and then Isadora became weightless, as Loki carried her down the hallway to her bedroom. Loki was already down to his underwear, a dark boxer-brief pair with a grey waistband. As he placed her on the bed, he started toward her, a hunger in his eyes, when—_

_"Turn on the light," she said quietly. He obeyed, and when the light filled the room, she could see his pale, almost alabaster skin gleaming from a thin layer of sweat. She drank in the sight of him, looking from his bright, glittering green eyes, to his wet pink lips, down to his lean, long torso. She couldn't help but stop and gaze at his underwear, biting her lips with anticipation. "They were right," she said breathlessly._

"_What, that tall men—?" Loki was too breathless himself to bother finishing the statement. Isadora just nodded, giving a breathy laugh and cocking her head to one side as she kept staring. "Well then. Who shall do the honors?" Loki allowed, breaking the tension a little by giving a mockingly grand gesture at his cock with his hands._

_Before he could even finish the question, Isadora pounced, and in a flash, they reversed positions: Loki was lying face-up on the bed, and Isadora was hovering over him, tugging at his boxer-briefs. It was a bit of work, considering his legs; they went on for miles, nothing but sinewy muscle and bones. But as Isadora cast aside the now useless piece of fabric, she looked at him hungrily. "Oh my," she said quietly. They locked eyes after she surveyed him, and they both smiled._

"_You're beautiful, Isadora," Loki murmured softly. "Especially when you've got me in something of a wristlock," he added slyly. She noticed that, rather unconsciously, Isadora had pinned his armed down._

"_I want you to take me," Isadora said, getting down to brass tacks, standing up a little bit straighter as she began to wiggle out of her bra and underwear. _No, wait_, she thought, backtracking as best as she could. "But first, I want you to eat me out."_

_Loki was savoring every word, every command she gave him. He had never had a lover like this—someone who was just as dominant as him. No, he thought, Isadora had ordered him around more than Loki had ever held power over anyone in the bedroom. It was like a toxin, a wonderful, sweet, toxin than clouded his brain. But suddenly, he snapped out of it, giving her a look of confusion._

"_Wait, what? Eat… eat you…?"_

"_Oral pleasure?" Isadora allowed, but he still didn't follow, shaking his head. "Here." _

_Just as quickly as she had flung him down on the bed, he was back upright, this time on his knees. Isadora lay back down, but then brought Loki down too, pushing his head down toward her vagina. Suddenly it clicked. _Idiot_, Loki thought to himself. She wanted him to pleasure her with… with his mouth. He'd read about this sort of thing, and he'd heard that it was a common practice among women lovers in Asgard, but never had he actually done it himself. He felt like a complete dolt, and looked up at Isadora to see if she could maybe lend any kind of advice for him._

"_Just write the alphabet with your tongue, and pay attention to the clitoris—just not too much," was all Isadora said before she plopped her head down on the pillow and offered up her second set of lips to Loki._

_The first few moments were awkward and silent, save for the occasional slurping and wet sounds Loki's lips made against hers. For a moment, he thought that he was going about it completely wrong, but then after about a minute, Isadora began moaning. Loki felt quite proud of himself as he worked his way up to a steady stream of tongue moments, as deftly as he possibly could for a novice performer._

_Isadora was in ecstasy, she was throbbing, wanting Loki to keep going, but her brain luckily had not given in. "Stop," she said loudly, and Loki immediately extricated himself from her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Isadora stopped him. She brought his head up to hers, and they began kissing passionately. His lips—oh, his lips tasted wonderful. They made her a new kind of drunk, drunk with lust and hunger and wanting. Their lips and their bodies synced up perfectly, and even though she was a small, delicate thing compared to Loki's long, sinuous body, he was able to position himself so his hips met with hers exactly._

"_What do you want, Isadora?" Loki asked her in between furious, urgent kisses. "Tell me. Tell me what you want."_

"_I want you, Loki," Isadora begged as Loki kissed her jaw, her neck, massaging her soft, supple breasts. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me hard."_

_Right at that moment, Loki plunged into her, and she cried out, not in pain, but in surprise. Her cry then turned into a moan, a long, aching moan than undulated with every thrust Loki gave her. At one point Loki leaned over while he was pumping, and gave a quiet little hiss in her hear. That nearly drove her to the edge, but then he came to a halting stop. _

"_No," she whined like a young child who had their favorite toy taken away from her. "Don't. Why did you stop. Keep going," she gasped quietly._

_Loki came back to a steady, pulsating rhythm, not as satisfying as before, but still sweet, Isadora thought as she savored every thrust. "Faster," she gasped._

_He leaned down again. "How badly do you want me to fuck you, my dear?" _

"_So badly," she said, this time, even more child-like. She pouted, grasping his arms that were planted on either side of her. "Please, Loki," she begged once more._

"_Your wish is my command." In a matter of seconds, his slow, savory rhythm transformed to a quick, rapid, staccato, his soft grunts and the sounds of flesh on flesh were what drove Isadora. She begged him not to stop, but eventually the begging turned into screaming, and she came, feeling pure lust, pure passion, and pure ecstasy fill her whole. Her orgasm lasted for longer than she had ever experienced, and she didn't tell Loki to stop until she began to ache from all the pleasure. Finally, when she became quiet, he dismounted, lying beside her face-up. _

"_Did you—?" Isadora asked breathlessly. But Loki waved her off, as if to say, "Just shut up, we're both done for the night."_

_Isadora snuggled up to him, she felt his warm arms wrap around her, and then everything went black._


End file.
